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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347900">Dragons in the sky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/izakkant/pseuds/izakkant'>izakkant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Character Death, Dark Magic, Developing Friendships, Draco Malfoy In Love, F/M, Falling In Love, Fate, Friendship/Love, Good Slytherins, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Love/Hate, Magic-Users, Major Original Character(s), Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), Red String of Fate, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:20:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/izakkant/pseuds/izakkant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven thought her life was normal.<br/>Until one day she found out she was a witch, and had to <br/>take the train to Roxfort, to a place she has never heard about before.</p><p>Draco lived everyday the same.<br/>Fulfilling his parent's expectations and acting cold with everyone<br/>That was the Slytherin way. Or so he thought.</p><p>But when they start sharing the same dreams, an unlikely bond<br/>begins to form between them.<br/>And suddenly Raven's life is turned upside down, while Draco has<br/>to find out what, or who he wants to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dragons in the sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A story about how to people who act cold are starting to find comfort in each other, when the wizarding world is slowly collapsing around them.<br/>(Draco x Original Character)</p><p>note: English isn't my first language, so If i make/made any mistakes, feel free to tell me and I will correct them asap</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dragons in the sky</p><p>Prologue</p><p>I’m drifting into the darkness. My eyes are closed, but I can’t see light, so opening them would be useless. The ground below me has disappeared, my body feels light as a feather, and I'm just floating into the nothingness that surrounds me. It feels peaceful, just breathing in and out, each time a bit more slower than before, until I exhale all the air in my lungs. And then suddenly, it’s all quiet. I can’t even hear my breathing, and then I realise that my pulse is almost gone. I should be worried, or panic, or scream, which I do, but my voice is also gone, it’s just my mouth forming the same words over and over again.<br/>
HELP<br/>
HELP<br/>
HELP<br/>
I don’t even know why I am shouting, my mind is all numb and can’t focus on anything apart from this quiet darkness around me. Maybe that is why I lost my voice. Disturbing this reality would harm it.<br/>
Harm.<br/>
My mind slows down, breaking free from the mesmerizing peacefulness, and tries to remember something other than the dark void. Danger. Fear. Pain.<br/>
I can’t tell why, but now I’m alarmed, and my pulse starts to speed up. Feelings pull me out of the comforting nothingness, and I try to scream again, still no sound, but I hear a reply, far-far away. It is faint, but I still make it out: </p><p>Raven.</p><p>I remember.</p><p>Raven.</p><p>I open my eyes.</p><p>Raven.</p><p>I am Raven.</p><p>And what I thought was darkness, is actually water, deep-green, endless, freezing. I am unable to move, and screaming won’t help, because my lungs are giving up, and my oxygen is running out, so I wish for some miracle to happen, even if I don’t know where I am.<br/>
It’s just the water, the cold, and me.<br/>
And as I sink deeper into what is under me, I look around, to find something, anything that could get me out of here.</p><p>I see someone.<br/>
Not far from me, somebody else is sinking. Blonde hair- almost white, fair skin, long legs. Small bubbles are leaving his mouth, meaning he is still alive, but not for long, if I can’t help. Maybe I am not the one to be saved.<br/>
I only have like a minute left. My lungs are heavy, and my head starts to ring, indicating that I am indeed gonna die.<br/>
How can I save someone when I can’t even help myself?<br/>
And why do I feel like I should do something for that stranger?<br/>
If only I could reach him somehow. I try to use every muscle in my body to swim. My left arm slowly moves up, followed by the right.<br/>
Yes. Just like this,<br/>
Legs are shaking.<br/>
I can’t give up.<br/>
My body feels weak, but it’s still alive. I am full of water, too heavy for quick movements, but I swim to my right, in a slow, desperate attempt to reach that boy. The more I try, the farther he floats, and I can feel that my head is hurting, no, it will explode if I don’t stop. </p><p>Look at me!</p><p>I scream, my voice is back, weak, but it might reach him.</p><p>Wake up!</p><p>He is still floating, deep into the water, eyelids closed. Maybe he is in the same situation I was a while ago. Alive, but just barely breathing. </p><p>One last stroke, and I’m near him, but I can’t move anymore, my legs, hands, lungs, heart, mind are going blank. Is this how it feels like?</p><p>I reach for his hands, and we are together at last. I could not save him, nor myself, but it won’t matter in a couple of seconds. My eyes are closing, and I smile for the last time.</p><p>At least I will die in a handsome boy's arms. </p><p>The last picture I see is his face.</p><p>And just before I pass, he wakes up. </p><p>Then it all goes dark.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chapter 1- Girl from Nowhere</p><p>I wake up to the sounds of someone’s alarm clock. Can’t say who’s for sure, but if I had to guess, maybe Martha. She always sleeps until 7 AM, and does not bother to let us have a bit more rest. The other girls usually don’t wake up to the annoying sound of ringing, god bless their souls. I have trouble falling asleep, I rarely dream, and I wake up to every little noise or movement. I wish I could sleep till, like 11, because then I would not have to make breakfast, or help with making the beds. But I barely get any rest these days.<br/>
I open my eyes, and I see the September sun shining in, a bit warm, but not as it was in the summer. I love fall, it’s the only thing that matches my mood: dull, chilly, windy and changes all the time.<br/>
The bed next to me is empty, Gilly must have gone for her usual morning walk. Her bed is neat as usual, with not a single fold in it.<br/>
I cringe, and brush my hair out of my face. I am the only girl here, who is not a blonde or a brunette. Hollie has ginger locks, but mine is pitch black, just like my name: Raven.<br/>
It’s not even a proper one, some people think I’m a boy, and I don’t blame them at all.<br/>
I quickly dress up, oversized denim jeans, a red t-shirt which I thrifted a while ago, and my plain black converse, the only stylish item I own.<br/>
If you live in an orphanage, you learn to let go of those stylish dreams of yours. No cool jeans, and cute tank-tops, you get what you find in the monthly pile they bring in- usually oversized shirts and trousers for men in their 40’s. Nevertheless, I like it, because it hides my body, which is nearing the end of puberty, wide hips, a not-so-flat stomach, and breasts, those I absolutely hate, and my face. I can’t even remember the last time I looked in a mirror. It’s not that I hate myself, or anything, I just don’t care. There aren’t many boys here, and being pretty is not my top priority. I only try to look decent when the Seekers come here.<br/>
Seekers are people, mostly couples who come here to look for a child to adopt.<br/>
Keepers usually bring home one. They don’t play around or say “no thank you” at the last minute, if they have their eyes on you, you’re in luck.<br/>
I was born to be unlucky. 10 years in this stupid mansion, and nobody has ever laid their eyes on me. You get why I can’t be bothered to at least try anymore, right?<br/>
As I finish getting ready, I leave my bed as it is, in a couple of hours I will lay in it again while reading some books. That is like the only interesting thing here. I bet Miss Bridget has got another crime novel in her old bag, might see if I can steal it later.<br/>
I walk out of the room filled with sleeping girls, careful not to wake them up. I am not the oldest here, but almost, there is Jane, who is almost 20, and she hopes to become a nurse here one day. She won’t admit it, but it is because nobody wanted to adopt her, but she acts like it’s out of will and ambition.<br/>
God, I hate people who lie.<br/>
And there is Suzy, who is just a year older than me, nearing 17. We used to hang out a lot, but nowadays she spends most of her time with Tommy, one of the only boys here. I try not to be a burden, but she owes me a pack of cigs, and I won’t let that slip. That stuff is expensive and rare here, not talking about how hard and dangerous it is to get one. I used to steal it from some innocent Seeker’s purse, but these days not that many people smoke. I don’t like the smell of it either, it just makes me feel at ease, which I rarely experience, since I can’t sleep well and I go to bed late because I’m on story teller duty for the little ones.<br/>
There are around 50-60 kids in here, each bed close to one another, but with a small space between. It’s not a prison, but sometimes I feel like it.<br/>
I close the old, white door behind me, and run down the corridor to the direction of the stairs. My steps are echoing on the walls, and I feel a bit less tired. I love running, especially from my problems.<br/>
By the time I reach the ground floor, I can already see Mrs McGilly instructing Martha and Jane on how to make breakfast, our menu is very limited, and we have been doing it for years, but she still feels the need to educate us on every tiny detail. I take a deep breath, put on a fake smile, and open the main door, it squeaks a bit, but at least I’m in.<br/>
“Good morning, Raven!” says Martha. She wears her usual blue dress, with an apron on it, to keep her from getting dirty.<br/>
“Mornin’ everyone” I reply, and I join them around the old brown table.<br/>
The kitchen is small, but enough for everything we need. Cooking duty is changed every week, usually three girls cook all of our meals, breakfast, lunch, dinner and every month we do a pancake day if we can. I got this as a punishment, because they caught me smoking again in the back of the garden, so I am almost a full time chef. If there are 4 weeks in a month, I am certain I do this job for at least 2. </p><p>“The usual?” I ask, while waiting for a reply from Mrs McGilly, who is walking around the kitchen and searching in the cupboards.</p><p>“Ham and eggs, with a piece of toast and butter. Jane is brewing the tea, Martha already volunteered, for setting the tables” she says while not even taking a glance at me. Too busy looking for bread maybe.</p><p>“Guess I will have to do the fun part”</p><p>“Make sure the eggs are cooked properly” Jane passes me and she pats my shoulder and goes to boil the water.</p><p>“Also, I love my bacon crispy” joins Martha, while getting some old plates. It’s not like we eat from silver dishes in a freaking orphanage…</p><p>“I will make sure to make yours extra soggy, don’t worry” I smile. God, I hate Martha. Such a snitch, the last time she caught me sneaking out I was grounded in our room for a week. I still can’t understand how a 13 year old can be so annoying. I hate children, because I spend an alarming amount of time around them, and being one of the oldest, that’s also my duty sadly.</p><p>“Seems like you slept well again. I left my clock there for you, just so you don’t oversleep” Martha fights back. Weak attempt, I have to say.</p><p>“I dreamt about you. I cut those golden locks of your hair with a kitchen knife”</p><p>“Shut up, you twat” she shouts back at me, while carrying a pile of spoons and forks.</p><p>“Language girls” and now Mrs McGilly is suddenly standing behind me. </p><p>“Bread is in the basket, right?” I turn around, and walk away to start cutting it, but she stops me from going away by pulling at my mid-length black hair.<br/>
I let out a hissing sound, and she pulls on it stronger- gosh I love this woman.</p><p>“You dare speak to Martha again like this and I take away your books.”</p><p>“Do it.” I say, and I finally break free, leaving a few strands of my hair in her closed fist. Take it as a gift, I guess.</p><p>“Make breakfast, I will tell Martha that you apologised.” she turns into the direction of the dining hall, and I curse under my nose. She probably could not hear it, because she went away, and I’m glad that I did not have to get into another useless fight again.</p><p>Cooking eggs for 60 people is easy when you use 4 pans, full heat, a bit of oil, and the cracking of shells with one hand. I do one at a time, quietly humming songs, and I put them into the hot pan, drizzling some oil over them. We have to use these things wisely, a limited budget equals cheap food for such a large number of people. I slice up the pre-packaged bacon, put those into the pans also, the fat gives the kitchen a nice smell which I just identify as breakfast. By the time I finish transferring them all into the big plates one by one, Martha comes in, intending to take them out to serve.</p><p>“Wait a bit Martha, Queen of Speed.” I say to her while slicing up the third loaf of bread.</p><p>“Can’t you hurry up? I’m hungry” she whines, and leans against the fridge.</p><p>“Yeah, maybe if I double my speed I cut at least 4 of my fingers into your breakfast. Carbs, yummy.”</p><p>“Very funny, Raven.” I can’t see her, but I would bet she rolls her eyes at me. “Okay, I will take it now, since you cut bread like someone who never even held a knife”</p><p>Martha picks up the plate of eggs, and balances it on her left hand, while holding the bacon in her right. She tries to reach the door, and it is obvious to me that she can’t exit while holding those, so I put down my knife, and walk over to help.</p><p>“Give it to me” I insist, and offer a hand.</p><p>“I can manage, go back and hurry up with the bread. We would like to have breakfast before lunchtime, thanks” she fakes a smile, and looks me right in the eyes, with that evil little spark in it.</p><p>“Maybe by the time you exit that door with 2 stupid plates of eggs and bacon, I cut up another 10 loafs. Now give it to me” I insist, and grab her left hand.</p><p>“Let me go” Martha screams.</p><p>“Shut up, it’s not like Mrs McGilly will appear to save you from evil Raven helping you out” I shake her wrist, and the eggs slowly start to move towards the end of the plate. We both freeze and watch them slowly going over the edge, and starting to rapidly descend to the ground.</p><p>Fucking gravity. I am a dead man if we have to throw out this much food. Worse, 20 people at least won’t have breakfast,and they will kill me before Mrs Sullivan decides to finally transfer me to another orphanage. She has been waiting for a good reason to do so for years now. Raven ruining everyone’s breakfast, perfect.<br/>
I let go of her hand, and reach for an egg, in a desperate attempt to save one at least.</p><p>And then it happens.</p><p>Before it hits the ground, they stop. I’m still holding out my hand, but it’s shaking, just like the eggs, more than an inch above the ground. Martha’s eyes widen, and she looks at me, but I can’t hold her gaze. I am shocked by the fact that eggs do float. Or gravity stopped working in our kitchen.<br/>
I take a look at her, close my hand, and I try to say something, but then I hear the eggs hitting the ground.</p><p>“Bloody hell Raven” she lets out these words, while being in shock I guess.</p><p>“Damn it” I look back. Almost all of the eggs, if not every one of them are scattered over the floor.</p><p>“What did just happen?” she asks me in a demanding tone.</p><p>“I don’t know Martha, just give me a goddamn minute, okay? I just blew all our eggs” I raise my voice, while trying to pick up the eggs, but the yolks have already stained the floor. Dirt and yellow stains all over the ground. It will be a pain in the ass to clean them up.</p><p>“No, you give me an explanation Raven. The eggs just floated. You made them do it. I know some physics,and it is not possible.” she looked down at me, while not even bothering to help. Yeah, I guess I’m gonna take the blame all by myself.</p><p>“Just shut up, please. I am so done if anyone sees this. Can’t you help?” I shout at her, a bit louder than I intend to, because the next minute I hear Mrs McGilly’s heels coming from the other side of the kitchen.</p><p>That’s it, I am busted.</p><p>“What on the earth is going on here, Martha?” she demands, but then she looks at me, and I am not small, but definitely can’t hide the 20 eggs on the ground. Her expression becomes dark, then red, then angry, and I know what is about to come.</p><p>“Get out. Now. Wait for me in front of the Hall.” </p><p>She doesn’t even look at me, and the tone in her voice makes me wanna run for my life, but I stand up, and while avoiding any eye contact I quickly rush out of the kitchen.<br/>
I fucked up big time.<br/>
I used to do all kinds of pranks, mixing up sugar and salt in recipes, changing butter for soap, and usually I get away with it with some stares and sometimes cleaning duty, but I know that Mrs McGilly has an eye for me, and she will make sure that I face the consequences.<br/>
It’s not about the eggs. They have plenty of them. It has always been about me. They just needed a good reason to do something about it, and now I literally served it up on a silver plate.<br/>
I wait for my death sentence to arrive while leaning against the dirty, once white wall. The cold makes my head sober up a bit. I am hungry, but can’t think of food right now. Suddenly, the images of the floating eggs come into my mind.<br/>
They were only in one place for a couple of seconds, but clear enough, both of us could see it. What makes me even more scared, is the fact that I do not know what caused it. Maybe it was me, just like Martha said.</p><p>A freak.</p><p>Raven is weird, messes up everything.</p><p>Ever since I almost drowned in that lake, I became one with the word “unlucky”.</p><p>Maybe being in the orphanage for the past 10 years is one fucking lake, and now is the time to drown. </p><p>Except I know how to swim, and apparently, I am still afloat.</p><p>I remember the eggs, something, which I cannot explain, and look at my hand. My palm is hard from all of the housework they make us do here, and my dirty nails from planting in the garden. My fingers are long, the smaller girls used to tell me it’s pretty. Maybe it's the only decent feature I have on my body.<br/>
The sound of Mrs McGilly wakes me up from my thoughts.</p><p>“Going overboard for you is a general routine, but when it comes to other’s disadvantage, I cannot tolerate it.” she says in a mocking tone.</p><p>“I am sorry for the eggs. Honestly.” I look at her, and try to act apologetic. Which I am, but it usually never shows on my face.</p><p>“It’s not about the eggs. Agatha is making them again, so make sure to thank her later.” she pauses to look me in the eye. Her hair is grey, and she has a bad breath. This is how I imagine death, and if I think about it, she might be it in this case.</p><p>“Raven, this is not the first time you do this. To be honest with you, I cannot even count the numbers of days you have gone without violating the rules here. The world is not all about how you imagine it. You should consider yourself lucky.” she leans in closer, to make sure that each and every one of her words reach my mind.</p><p>“For what? That I get to eat bacon and eggs twice a week?” I laugh, and she grabs my shoulder, a bit firmly, and I stop smiling. People usually do this when they want to say something serious.</p><p>“To be alive. Sometimes I wonder how a little girl survived that tragedy. God has some plans with you, for sure.”</p><p>“I don’t believe in God” I reply. Religion was never my thing.</p><p>“But he certainly believes in you. For whatever reason He has.”</p><p>“He should have let me drown with my parents.” I say under my breath, but I’m sure she can still hear it.</p><p>“Life is a gift, Raven. A very special one. You only get it once, even if you do not accept it as it is. Make sure to pray before going to sleep, God forgives easier than I do.”</p><p>“What does that mean?” I ask with a spark of curiosity in my voice. She looks at me, cold and dull, and says the words I expect to hear.</p><p>“Pack your things. I already sent a letter to Dhelia, she will most likely arrive by tomorrow. You have earned yourself a bed in another orphanage, except, it is for wicked ones like you. I am sure no more eggs will be flying around in the kitchen there.” when she finishes her speech, she smiles at me, and I have to calm every muscle of my body not to punch her in the face.</p><p>“Fine then.” I look at her, dead in the eyes. We stay like this for a second, and then I turn around, and walk away. Before I reach the corner, I can’t keep myself from shouting back one last time.</p><p>“Fuck this place”</p><p>Because I really mean it.</p><p>I can hear her screaming back something at me, probably about detention or being grounded, but I cannot hear it, my legs are fast, I am running up the stairs, fast as I can. I almost bump into a group of smaller girls, they all greet me, but I just keep going until I reach the rusty old brown door.<br/>
I open it, run to my bed, pull out the box under it and I start to throw everything into a small green backpack I own. Shirts, two jeans, a beanie, hoodies, a copy of Jane Eyre, blue socks. Mismatched of course, I cannot even remember the last time I had matching ones. The last things I stuff into it is a picture of me, my Dad and my Mum. That is the only memory I have of them. I was still very small when they died. It is in black and white, but framed. I give a kiss to their heads, then zip it all up. I reach under my pillow for the remaining cigarettes I own and a spare lighter, and put them in my pocket. One last smoke won’t hurt. I search for my wallet, which has a precious 5 pounds in it, not much, but it might be enough for me to finally escape one day on a bus from this hellhole.<br/>
Where did I put it? I ask myself as I turn over my pillow, sheets, and the remaining clothes which I probably won’t be able to bring with myself. I stop for a moment to think, and also because I realise that I am sweating, maybe from excitement, or most probably from packing and running like a maniac.<br/>
A cool breeze hits my face, I enjoy it for a quick minute. Suddenly it is all peaceful, the white beds, all of them empty, just a few toys and dolls are hanging out from under the pillows. The windows are closed, but the sun is shining through, bathing the room in a golden light.<br/>
One of them, the one in front of my bed however, is open. The curtain moves, and I see a tail appear behind it. It belongs to a cat I figure, and I am not wrong, a bit later it emerges from its hiding spot. The cat is pitch black, just like my hair, it has green eyes, which is quite unusual, but I like it nonetheless. </p><p>“Come here kitty” I reach for her, but she walks along the edge of the window, and I realise that she is holding my wallet in her mouth when she turns to face me.</p><p>“Give it to me please” I offer my palm with a smile on my face. She shows no reaction, so I reach into my pockets. If I remember correctly, I still have some leftover biscuits from yesterday evening. I find it, and offer it to her as a gift.</p><p>“You want to make a deal? I’ll give you this yummy treat if you lend me my wallet back. Sounds good?”</p><p>The cat tilts its head, she looks surprised, and she leans forward to jump down from the window to the ground. She looks up at me, and I once again try to reach down to her, but she quickly jumps further. Silly little thing, I have to say. Oh, I want to be a cat, I would run around all day and make Mrs McGilly question her sanity.</p><p>“Please, Kitty, I really need that thing back” I beg her, while chasing it around the beds.<br/>
She stops when I am about to touch her tail, and looks back.</p><p>Our eyes meet, and I realise that it's actually not green, but yellow-ish, with a faint emerald glow.<br/>
The cat makes a run for the window, and I go after her, in a desperate attempt to get back my precious wallet. She jumps into the curtain, and the wind blows hard, which is quite unusual, so I have to step back a bit to wait for her to come out.</p><p>What I see next is not a cat, but a tall woman, with a witch-like hat.</p><p>She blows the dust off her clothes, pushes her glasses up her long, a bit crooked nose, and crosses her arms, in a very diplomatic position. </p><p>I am in shock, so I blink a bit. My throat becomes dry, and I totally forget about my wallet. The only thing in my mind is the cat, or should I say, Lady in front of me.<br/>
She greets me with a sweet tone, full of kindness, but wisdom in it at the same time, while still keeping a distance. The wind makes her dark green skirt flow a bit, and I am completely frozen.</p><p>“It’s very nice to greet you, Raven. My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I came to you today to inform you that you got accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You may pack your personal belongings, but I am worried that our time is running out.” she looked at her wrist, and the clapped two, which made my clothes all suddenly float in the air.</p><p>“What is happening?” I asked in total shock, because I still could not understand how she had transformed from cat to a full grown woman. My clothes in the air were just the cherry on top.</p><p>“Oh, we will have plenty of time to explain that my Dear, but the train is leaving in exactly 34 minutes. I will take care of your luggage, don’t you worry.” she smiled, and even though I was mind blown by the past 3 minutes, I still felt that somewhat I could trust her. </p><p>The clothes I had including my backpack went higher up in the air, and I realised that they are not floating by themselves, she is doing some weird movements with a… wand, or some kind of wooden stick?</p><p>“What is that thing?” I asked slowly, while taking a step closer to the Lady.</p><p>“It is a wand. Used to execute different kinds of spells and magic.” she explained, while all of my stuff floated out the window. I ran to look out, because even tho she looked kind, I was sure as hell that I would murder her if my stuff went missing.</p><p>Under the window, was a car. Except not on the ground, but 4 meters up the air. In the driver's seat sat a huge guy, almost the fourth of my size, with a long back beard and even longer, fuzzy hair. My package was neatly placed on the backseat. I decided to turn back, because I could not make any sense out of what I just saw.</p><p>“Who is that person?” I asked. “And do I have to use that thing?”</p><p>“He is Rubeus Hagrid, he is Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts. That is a “flying car” what muggles would call it I suppose.” she nodded a bit, and instructed with her hand for me to make my way out the window.</p><p>“What are muggles?” I asked again for the hundredth time that day.</p><p>“In the world of magic we call muggles the people who cannot perform spells or magical actions. But I am sure they think of themselves as just “humans”. They do not know about the existence of magicians. Please, my Dear, step in the car, our time is almost up. I shall not waste any of our precious minutes.” explained McGonagall, as she was walking closer, and to encourage me, she placed one of her hands on my shoulder.</p><p>“Am I a muggle then?” I looked upon her, before probably jumping out the window into a freaking floating car.</p><p>“No, Raven.” she called me by my first name with a faint smile on her face.”You were told up to this day, that you are ordinary, but to be exact, you are quite the opposite: a witch.” </p><p>Before I could answer anything, she gently grabbed my hand, and pushed me out of the window.</p><p>-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please leave a comment or a kudos if you liked it :) I have a lot going on right now but I will try to continue the story as fast as I can.<br/>xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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